Degree
by Maid Of Many Names
Summary: In a world turned Dark, Hermione is thrust into an adventure of her own during her final year at Hogwarts. Voldemort spins a new plot, and the people Hermione has always depended on, aren’t all they seem. Even Dumbledore has secrets. (Rating may increa


Title: Degree

Author: Maid Of Many Names

Rating: PG-13 (will rate higher in later chapters)

Category: Drama, possible Romance

Summary: In a world turned Dark, Hermione is thrust into an adventure of her own during her final year at Hogwarts. Voldemort spins a new plot, and the people Hermione has always depended on, aren't all they seem. Even Dumbledore has secrets. 

Prologue

As a rule, Lucius Malfoy never groveled. That rule, however, did not apply to meetings with Voldemort. The moldy carpet was digging holes in his knees, and he was beginning to wonder if his back would be crippled for life. The tyrant before him seemed unlikely to end his humiliation any time soon. A wave of frustration leapt up from the pit of his stomach to burn hotly on the shreds of his pride. That Potter boy had made him look like a fool. Worse was that Voldemort was considering terminating the Malfoy line due to his son's stupidity. Wormtail was nearly salivating as his silver hand gently clenched and unclenched around Draco's throat. Lucius shuddered at the unhealthy enjoyment on the former rat's face.

"Enough, Wormtail. You haven't earned that privilege quite yet," Voldemort's high-pitched voice teased.

"My lord?" Malfoy risked speaking.

"Don't think yourself forgiven, Lucius. I'm very disappointed in you. It was such a simple and elegant plan. And it was your boy's petty rivalry that ruined it! Luckily for you, I have another plan and perhaps your son can redeem himself in my eyes," Voldemort spoke.

"How may we serve you, Lord Voldemort?"

The cold, reptilian smile that worked itself over the dark wizard's face, made Lucius feel more than a little uneasy. His current disgrace had voided any measure of safety he had within the Death Eater ranks. Voldemort's servants weren't known for their compassion. There was no doubt he could look after himself, but his son was another matter. Draco had turned into any Death Eater father's worst nightmare. Insolent, arrogant and ham fisted with intrigue, the boy would be dead within moments if not protected. 

Over the centuries the Malfoy line had weathered more than one idiot. There was of course, no fondness between father and son. Unfortunately, Draco was the only child he'd been able to produce, so the time honored tradition of 'pruning' the Malfoy tree was impossible. Thus Lucius Malfoy, the richest and most powerful wizard in England, found himself hobbled.

"You will serve by not failing!" Voldemort spat with passion but then calmed. "Your little ploy of opening the Chamber Of Secrets ended in the destruction of the basilisk. That creature was Salazar Slytherin's legacy to us... but it wasn't the only legacy."

"There is more, my lord?" Lucius asked, almost forgetting in his surprise to temper his usual arrogant tone with humility.

"Yes, and you will be the tool that allows me to open the Chamber."

"B-but my lord, I don't have-"

"I know your bloodline as well as you do, Lucius. Oh no, I plan to open the Chamber Of Secrets myself," Voldemort chuckled.

Part 1

Diagon Alley was a long way from being the busy and exotic place of memory. As Hermione Granger stepped through the entrance, she felt a pang for the shiny innocence of her earlier years. Now in her final year at Hogwarts, and after three years of war against Voldemort, those memories seemed almost surreal. The Diagon Alley of today, was a quiet place where people hunched into the hoods of their cloaks as they passed. Hurrying from shop to shop, they didn't dare to meet the eyes of the Aurors stationed on every corner. The once jaunty colors of the storefronts were now faded and seemed glum. If Diagon Alley seemed empty, Knockturn Alley was desolate. Burnt out hulks of once rickety buildings were silent as death. Many indeed had died when Fudge had ordered the district burnt. Shivering a little at the depressing vision before her, Hermione forced herself to step forward.

The list of books and supplies for her seventh year at Hogwarts was the longest yet. Every year the students had been pushed a little harder, a little faster and with a lot more apprehension. This coincided with the increased frequency and severity of Voldemort's attacks, and Fudge's countermeasures. Hermione guessed that Dumbledore was trying to give them the best chance for survival possible. As an addendum to the list, was a note that only increased Hermione's anxiety.

__

An elective will be held for students 6th year and above. Muggle born students are required to take the elective. Students of wizarding parents are strongly advised to participate. Materials are as follows...

__

Curses, Hexes And How To Use Them by Anna Thema

Dark Creatures And Darker Magic by Ada Agaric

Horrid Herbals by Nicholas Culpepper

The Dueling Wizard by Magna Mortis

The list of materials suggested that electives featured defense techniques that Hermione knew weren't authorized by the board of directors. A more cynical part of her remarked that it would suit Fudge perfectly if everyone was made more dependent on his policies and Aurors. Clearing her mind of such things, she hurried to Flourish and Blotts. As always, the towering isles and stacks of books soothed her troubled heart.

Fingers lingering over the leather spines, Hermione muttered their titles under her breath. The library at Hogwarts had more than enough books to captivate her attention, but there was always something intimate and comforting about owning a book, and then curling up in bed to read it. Flourish and Blotts had both new and pre-loved books. Hermione always loved the second hand volumes best. She had always wondered who had read them before her.

Quickly finding her required texts, Hermione drifted towards the DADA section. Everyone and their familiar were writing books on defense, now that Voldemort had returned. The various authors claimed expertise in all fields, and the ability to defeat any creature they met. For all their supposed ability, they were all painfully silent on the subject of getting rid of Voldemort. Those kinds of books with the smiling and winking photographs on the covers, were of no interest to her. Instead, she let her attention wander to the books with less glitter and more substance. 

A thick slab of leather and parchment caught her eye. The soft onionskin paper rustled as she browsed through it. The refined, hand written pages were further embellished by border illustrations of fantastic beasts that moved and writhed as she watched. This particular book was one she had been hoping to find. It was a rather rare find, having been published nearly a hundred years ago. Hermione flicked through the chapters with growing excitement. This book discussed methods of protecting homes and individuals from harm. Protecting her parents from possible Death Eater attacks had become one of her highest priorities. Counting out her wizard money, Hermione decided that she could scrape together enough to pay for the unbudgeted book. 

After paying for her purchases, Hermione made her way to Madam Malkin's. When she had first received the letter from Hogwarts telling her she was a witch, Hermione had wanted to prove to herself that she was as good at the students from magical families. Thinking about that childish insecurity made her smile. Burning with her desire to do well, and buried under more than one pile of books, she had given little thought to her appearance. Generally, Hermione didn't care if she was up to date with the most recent fashion. This year was different. This year she was Head Girl. Indulging in a little vanity, surely couldn't hurt?

"Miss Granger!" Madam Malkin cried out in greeting.

"Hello, Madam. I'm here for-"

"Robes fit for a Head Girl! I've heard the good news and I your parents must be so proud," the Madam fussed as she made some strategic measurements.

"How did you know?" Hermione asked a little puzzled at the personal attention she receiving.

"Oh, all the gossip comes to me eventually," Madam Malkin chuckled. "I suppose it helps that the Hogwarts staff come to me for their robes. Now, how about you look at these display cards and tell me if you see something you like..."

The charmed drawings moved gracefully across their cardboard frames. Elegant and dripping in style, the robes were a little more than Hermione bargained for. She half wished that she had taken Ginny with her, or perhaps met up with Lavender. Harry and Ron had organized to meet her at Platform 9 ¾ in two hours, having done their shopping earlier. Hermione was just grateful they weren't there to give her advice. As much as she loved her friends, she'd end up wearing Quidditch robes if she listened to them. Madam Malkin sensing her confusion patted her on the shoulder.

"A bit much my dear? Don't worry, I'll help you."

In a flash of multi-colored fabrics, Hermione found herself dressed in a black robe of unusual design. Wizarding clothing had seemed rather exotic to Hermione, when she had first come to Diagon Alley. They seemed to be dressed in a mixture of styles going back to the Middle Ages. Student robes were usually more conservative in design. Most students did, however, find ways to personalize their standard black robes. A variety of styles seemed to bloom as students progressed at Hogwarts. Most of the female students seemed to compete at being the best dressed. Hermione steered as clear of that as she could. Her family simply didn't have the resources to keep her in designer robes. Even this year, she would settle with being simply well dressed.

The dress she was wearing wasn't merely 'well dressed'. The material was a silk satin embroidered with hawthorn blossoms, and lined with a softer silk that caressed her skin in a sensuous grip. The robes that framed the dress were elegantly cut, and were of the thickest velvet. It was far too expensive for her! The fitted square neckline also showed far too much of her bosom, even if the skirt was more than modest in its generous folds of fabric. A blush grew on her cheeks and Hermione lifted her fingers to feel her warming skin. As she lifted them, the deep bell sleeves rustled. The dress was lovely, but far above her price limit.

"Madam Malkin, it's a beautiful dress and the robes are truly elegant, but I can't afford it!" Hermione finally spoke with sincerity.

"Oh, no, don't worry about that. I've watched you buy all those cut-price robes and you deserve a little something! These robes are on me! Besides, it wouldn't due for a Head Girl to not have beautiful new dress robes in her final year," Madam Malkin replied. "But for dress robes, I think you need a little color change..."

Speechless, Hermione couldn't believe what she had been told. With a wave of Madam Malkin's wand, the robes changed into a striking midnight blue. There was no denying that the robes were beautiful, but she didn't feel right to accept a gift that was so obviously expensive.

"I-I'm not sure if I can-"

"Nonsense! Allow an old lady her pleasure in dressing up a pretty young girl like you. Now for something you will be happy to buy!"

The second set of robes were cut with a less full skirt and fitted sleeves. To Hermione's continued embarrassment, the bodice was again fitted with a square neckline but had an Elizabethan collar that made Hermione feel a little more confident. Third, were a set of robes that were very simple in style but the cut velvet was eye-catching. Vines twined and hugged their way across the cloth. The scooped neckline of the final set of robes was far more comfortable. The soft linen and silk mix was soft yet sturdy to the touch. Both sets of robes were cut very finely but were not too expensive. Hermione had the suspicion that the Madam was purposefully lowering her prices.

"Are you certain, these robes are permitted at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked looking at the flesh exposed across her chest.

"Of course they are! Don't worry, child, you look fine. Fitted bodices are very much the style. At least you don't have to wear a corset, as I did when I was young!" Madam Malkin laughed.

Assured by the good Madam Malkin, Hermione paid for her robes. Even though the robes were rather different from her normal haphazard style, something deep within her was very pleased by them. Hermione would never admit it, but on more than one occasion, she had felt rather dowdy compared with the other Gryffindor girls. While she was no beauty, her new robes were a vast improvement to the loose robes she had always worn before.

Purchases in hand, Hermione slowly made her way to the junk shop further down Diagon Alley. It was the same store that Percy had bough his book on successful Hogwarts' Prefects. As she walked, Hermione felt her stomach flip. Plenty of witches and wizards went into the store everyday. There was nothing suspicious in her actions, but Hermione could feel a trickle of sweat form down her back. She never had been good at deception or deviousness. It was only her natural stubbornness, and drive to *know*, that kept her moving forward. What the junk store openly offered for sale, was not what she wanted. It was what was sold privately, and in secrecy, that Hermione desired.

A small bell tinkled as Hermione entered. The must store was nearly deserted with the exception of a small elderly witch looking over enchanted tea cozies. Gathering up her courage, Hermione went to the front counter where the grizzled manager gave her a warm smile and a wink. That small greeting melted the lump in her stomach.

"Good morning, Mr. Hammond," Hermione began.

"And good morning to you, Miss Granger. Might you be wanting those books you ordered?" Mr. Hammond replied.

"Yes, that would be wonderful," Hermione replied.

The manager muttered something as he rummaged in one of the cupboards behind the desk. Hermione guessed that the cupboard was heavily warded. If the Ministry or Aurors found out about its contents, Mr. Hammond would be sent to Azkaban without question. If she was found with the books she had ordered, she would find herself in Azkaban too. Her nature to abide by the rules warred with her as Mr. Hammond searched and fussed. She had no business reading books about the Dark Arts. She could be expelled, if anyone even suspected. She would endanger her family if she were found out. Doubts and fears whirled up, until Hermione was nearly shaking. The heavy thump of books hitting the counter broke her near panic.

Wordlessly, she automatically handed over the substantial amount she owned. It was wrong, it was dangerous, but it was the only thing she could do. Six years of adventures ending in near disaster were more than enough. Hermione was tired of being thrown into situations where they were at a disadvantage. She probably knew more spells than most of the school but they weren't enough. A Death Eater wouldn't even blink if hit by most of the hexes and charms she'd been taught at Hogwarts. Feeling justified, Hermione snatched up the books and placed them between her school texts.

"Now, you watch out for yourself. Those nosy Aurors have been watching my store lately," Mr. Hammond said as way of goodbye.

Just as she turned to leave, Hermione found herself bumping into a set of expensive black velvet robes. Catching herself before she fell on her bottom, she glared up at the owner of the robes. The white blond hair and smirk were all too familiar. Animosity rose between them, and Hermione stiffened her back.

"Slumming are you Malfoy?" Hermione snapped.

"If you are here, mudblood, then I guess I must be. Maybe next time you should watch where you are going," Draco sneered.

"You really do need to learn some more original insults. I think I saw a book on insults at your reading level with lots of pictures at Flourish and Blotts," Hermione growled back.

"Keep wagging that nagging tongue of yours while you can, Granger," Malfoy jeered and fiddled with his parcels.

Hermione's attention was drawn to the basket that Malfoy was holding. To her amazement she saw a snake. As she watched, the snake slithered uncomfortably in its wicker cage. Clearly, the cage wasn't meant to be used for snakes. Malfoy shook it impatiently but the reptile spat and writhed more. Hermione felt a shot of indignant horror at the snake's maltreatment. She didn't particularly like snakes, but she didn't like seeing anything being mistreated. As she looked back up at Malfoy's cruel gray eyes, Hermione felt a flash of inspiration.

Draco Malfoy might be the most spoilt and pandered person she knew, but even he wasn't allowed to take a snake to Hogwarts. Knowing Malfoy, it was probably venomous. What he might get up to with it made her feel nauseous. As Head Girl, she had been obliged to memorize all the school regulations and rules. She was also empowered to police them. Hogwarts regulations stated clearly that a cat, owl *or* toad was allowed to be brought. There were minor exceptions like Lavender's rabbit, but Hermione knew that venomous snakes were probably not going to be accepted. A hot flash of victory filled her as Hermione realized that she was being given an opportunity, not just to defend snake rights, but to gain some recompense for six years of bullying.

"Nice pet, Malfoy. I bet it cost your father quite a bit. Did Dumbledore give you special dispensation?"

"My father-"

"Didn't think so. As Head Girl-"

"You're Head Girl?!" Malfoy snarled, being sure to display his disgust artfully on his face.

"*As* Head Girl I will simply have to confiscate that snake," Hermione finished with a triumphant smile.

"My snake! My father gave that to me-"

"And I'm taking it away, or would you like to see Slytherin down 100 points on the first day for disobeying the Head Girl?" Hermione replied, knowing that it was half a bluff, as she wasn't allowed to take that many points away.

"You'll pay for this, mudblood," Draco snarled and nearly threw the snake and its cage at her.

Hermione allowed a small smile to appear on her face.

"That's one small step for snakes, one giant leap for mudbloods," Hermione chuckled. 

Part 2

Now that she had the snake, Hermione had no idea what to do with it. It wasn't as if she could let a possibly venomous snake out in the middle of Diagon Alley. To make matters worse, there was only twenty minutes until she had to go to the station to meet Ron and Harry. Finally, it was the magically moving sign of the Magical Menagerie offered her a solution. Hermione hadn't been to the Magical Menagerie since she had bought Crookshanks. Last year, the old cat had died and she had studiously avoided all stores selling familiars. Standing outside of the store, Hermione hesitated. From inside she could hear the cacophony of sound that accompanied large numbers of animals of various species. She had loved Crookshanks a great deal. Since she had first seen him, she had felt a common bond with the bedraggled marmalade cat. Immediately, she had known he had to be hers. When he had died, she'd cried herself to sleep for a week.

The idea of going into the place where she had first seen him wasn't a pleasant thought. Glancing down at the irritated snake, Hermione wished she had never confiscated it in the first place. Summoning up what courage she could, she abruptly entered and headed for the desk clerk. The clerk looked apprehensively at the basket that was shaking from the snake's angry struggles.

"Did you, ah, buy that snake here?" the clerk asked.

"No, but I need to talk to your manager about it," Hermione replied firmly.

"One moment, miss," the clerk replied, and was obviously glad he didn't have to deal with the snake.

A few moments passed, and an older man of portly build and balding head appeared. The crumbs on his shirt told her that he'd been disturbed from his midmorning tea. He looked down at the snake and tutted to himself. Hermione felt somewhat guilty, although she hadn't been the one that put the snake in its cage or treated it badly.

"Is this your snake?" the manager asked after a moment.

"No, sir," Hermione said and then explained how she'd confiscated it.

"Good thing you have a sharp eye, Miss Granger. That there is _Vipera aspis aspis_, or the asp viper. What a lovely specimen," the manager replied, clearly interested.

"The asp viper? Isn't that one of Europe's few deadly snakes?"

"Well, it's not really the snake's fault it's venomous," the manager replied fondly.

"What should I do with it? I have to get to the train in fifteen minutes. Is it possible for you to take it?" Hermione asked.

"Oh dear, I would if I could. I simply am not registered with the Ministry to handle venomous snakes. These days you have to be registered for everything!"

"What should I do? Could I release it in the wild?" Hermione asked with deepening concern.

"That probably wouldn't be a good idea. From the looks of it, it's a wizard bred snake. We can't take the risk of Muggles noticing something odd about it," the manager replied with fervor.

"Is there anything I can do?" Hermione cried.

"Now, now then, it's really not so bad. Snakes can be very helpful familiars. Wizard bred snakes can be very affectionate, unlike Muggle bred snakes."

"Affectionate? I'm sorry sir, but it looks quite the opposite," Hermione replied.

"Well wouldn't you be? Stuck in an unheated cage far too small for you?" the manager replied. "Put it up here and we'll take a look at it."

Reluctantly, Hermione did as the manager said. The manager picked a strange device from behind the counter that looked like a long stick carved into the likeness of a hand with two fingers. Hermione caught the words 'capto' just before the stick shot out and neatly grabbed the snake behind the head. The manager then proceeded to open the cage and carefully remove the snake. It struggled but could not get free.

"Ah, so it's a male snake. Around twenty-five inches. Nice girth... Really, he'd be a nice familiar once he got to know you," the manager said looking at Hermione expectantly, and reminding her rather strongly of Hagrid.

"Hogwarts doesn't allow snakes," Hermione replied with surprise.

"No, no, I suppose they don't. I'm afraid there isn't much I can do for you. The market in snakes has decreased since, well, the troubles," the manager replied referring to Voldemort's rise. "I don't even know anyone who is licensed to handle venomous snakes these days. The only think I can think for you to do is ask Professor Dumbledore if he knows someone who would be happy to take it from you. I can write you a note?"

Hermione was beginning to think that Malfoy was having the last laugh. What seemed like simple rescue mission with the added bonus of some revenge, was turning into a right mess. She was hardly a parselmouth like Harry, and she didn't know the first thing about snakes. The manager admired the snake, and Hermione groaned to herself. There was no getting out of it now.

"Do you have any books on snake care?" Hermione asked in a defeated voice.

"Certainly, but first you might like to try a variation on the ancient Indian snake charming spell. That will make sure this young man won't hurt you and will behave himself."

"What spell is that? I haven't heard of it," Hermione replied.

"I'm not surprised you haven't. It's not that common and is only used by snake keepers. It's a permanent spell until someone else casts it on the snake. Now, say 'pareo' and visualize the snake calm and harmless," the manager said.

Wand in hand, she looked at the snake. She was probably seeing things, but Hermione would have sworn the snake looked vaguely alarmed as well as mad. Pushing such silly notions from her mind, she concentrated.

"Pareo!"

A light blue flash burst from her wand and then engulfed both herself and the snake. For a moment, Hermione felt her senses wrench. Quickly the sensation disappeared but it left her feeling slightly ill. The manager's expression was surprised, and Hermione wondered if she had done something wrong. The notion worried her, as she hadn't messed up a spell since she was in first year. Even then, she'd been sure to practice in private until she was proficient.

"Did I do something wrong?" Hermione asked.

"No, I don't think so. I've just never seen a reaction like that before. Both you and the snake glowed blue for a moment. The spell worked, though."

The spell did seem to have worked. The snake was now quiet and was gazing at Hermione, its tongue testing the air. To her surprise, the manager extended the quiet snake towards her. Swallowing hard, Hermione took the snake. She half expected it to try and bite her. Instead it coiled its body about her hands. Each scale was perfectly defined but were remarkably smooth and cool to the touch. The pattern of black and gray was unusual. Bold ripples of black were drawn over a dove gray. The angular but oddly handsome head regarded her and flicked its tongue. Hermione realized that it was probably scenting her. Slowly, the snake moved up her arm and on to her shoulder. Motionless, Hermione stopped breathing. The reptile simply moved to coil about her shoulder and neck.

"Oh my, your eyes are round as saucers," the manager chuckled. "Don't worry miss. That fellow is just getting himself warm. He can't hurt you now you've got that charm on him. Now, let me write a note and set you up with some basic requirements..."

By the time the manager was done, Hermione had spent the rest of her wizarding money. There was no time to go to Gringott's and she wondered what she'd do for the rest of the year. Sighing to herself, she hurried to apparate. In her sixth year she had passed the test but she hadn't used that ability all that often. In a split second, Diagon Alley vanished and Platform 9 ¾ appeared. Feeling limp with the trials of her day, Hermione searched the crowd for Harry and Ron's distinctive hair.

"Hermione!" Harry called and waved her over.

"Cripes, what's that!" cried Ron as she drew closer.

"A snake," Hermione replied bluntly.

"I now that, but what's it doing on your shoulder? It looks dangerous!"

"I confiscated it from Malfoy earlier today. Now I'm stuck with it until I can give it to the Headmaster," Hermione replied tiredly.

"Are you sure it's safe? It looks like something I saw in the zoo..." Harry asked with a frown. "There's just something odd about it."

"The manager of the Magical Menagerie gave me a charm to make sure it's safe. He said it was probably wizard bred and that they're different from Muggle snakes," Hermione informed them.

"Why didn't you just leave it at the Menagerie?" Ron asked.

"The Ministry calls for all retailers of poisonous snakes to be registered."

"I can't believe the Ministry is going crazy with all this registry stuff!" Harry sighed.

"Sod the Ministry, we need to get on the train," Ron interjected.

With that, everything was normal again. The easy companionship was welcome after the trials of Diagon Alley. Hermione chatted with the two boys and chastised them for not reviewing last year's material. They endured the lecture with practiced fondness. Hermione found herself tempted to have Harry find out more about the snake. That temptation was quickly quashed. It wouldn't do to become attached to the snake when it was just going to be given away. Speeding through the countryside, the train eventually lulled Hermione into a doze. Only Ron shaking her shoulder woke her up in time to change her robes. The purple robes she wore to Diagon Alley wouldn't be appropriate for her first day as Head Girl at all.

Dressed in one of her new robes, both Harry and Ron stared at her as if she'd grown another head. Their reaction was a little gratifying, although there were suddenly butterflies in her stomach. Hermione just hoped she would do Gryffindor credit as Head Girl. 

"Whoa, Hermione! New robes? Since when do you buy new robes?" Ron cried as Hermione reentered their compartment.

"Since I was made Head Girl. I told you in my last letter," Hermione replied.

"You told us about being Head Girl, but not about getting new robes. You look really nice. Anyone you're trying to impress?" Harry teased.

"No! Just because I want to look nice in my last year-"

"Hermione, it was just a joke. You can dress up if you want to," Harry apologized.

"Sorry, Harry. It's just I don't want people to think I'm as bad as Lavender and Parvati," Hermione sighed.

"Ha! That'll be the day. You whip them in the brains department hands down. With those robes, you're giving them a run for beauty department too," Ron added.

Ron's compliment warmed Hermione, even though it was exaggerated. His comment also made her feel more self-conscious. Particularly she felt uncomfortable with her hair. There was no doubt that with the new robes, she cut a more stylish figure. Unfortunately, there was also no doubt that her hair hadn't changed at all, from being its natural busy self. Winding it into a tight knot helped to tame it, but didn't hide it. The sudden insecurity made Hermione cringe. There were far more important things to think about and here she was wondering if her hair looked nice. Firmly rebuked, she changed the subject and continued chatting with her friends until the train stopped. When the train stopped, Robert Rheum the Head Boy found her and they arranged a meeting to discuss such things like what to do if students of their own house were caught breaking the rules. Although she would never admit it, Hermione was glad to sit down at the Gryffindor table.

The Sorting and the following feast were a near blur. Excitement and nerves made Hermione feel rather lightheaded. She barely noticed when she was introduced as Head Girl. When the feast ended, Hermione breathed a sight of relief. The snake had decided to go exploring in her robes. It was currently residing beneath her robes, tucked just under her collar. Its firm scaly body seemed almost a part of her as it soaked up her body heat. The position reminded her of Crookshanks who had often sat on her shoulder. Fighting back her thoughts of her dear departed familiar, Hermione made her way up to the staff table before Dumbledore had left the Great Hall.

"Headmaster?" Hermione queried.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore replied with a characteristic twinkle in his eyes.

"Earlier I confiscated a venomous snake from a student. I spoke to the manager of the Magical Menagerie but he wasn't able to take the snake," Hermione explained.

"It seems we have a quandary," Dumbledore replied. "May I see the snake?"

Carefully, Hermione peeled the snake from under her robes. It was less than happy being brought out into the cool, but it didn't resist. When it noticed Dumbledore, it twitched and wrapped itself securely around her arm. A small chuckle issued from Dumbledore and he patted the snake once, and then regarded her.

"That's a very interesting snake, Miss Granger. May I ask how you have made it... docile?"

"The manager of the Magical Menagerie gave me a charm that snake owners use. It's worked quite well, sir."

"I see. Well, it's a very handsome snake and you clearly have no problems dealing with it," Dumbledore replied.

"No, no, I don't want to keep it, sir. I was wondering if you knew anyone who...," Hermione trailed off feeling embarrassed.

"It's strange how things happen, Miss Granger. Perhaps this snake has crossed your path for a reason. I'm certain you shall be responsible for your new familiar," Dumbledore smiled.

Dumbfounded, Hermione slowly returned to Gryffindor tower. Malfoy really was getting the last laugh. Who ever heard of a snake being the familiar of a Gryffindor? In a daze, she entered the private room she'd been given as Head Girl. Sighing, Hermione readied for bed. Her trunk had been delivered while she was at dinner as had the snake's case. Unfortunately, the stubborn snake hadn't wanted to go into its new heated cage but once there, Hermione hoped it would prefer the cage to her shoulder. Her last thought before falling to sleep was that she had to find a name for the snake.

* * *

Minutes passed and the snake watched the young woman sleep. Finally, it uncoiled itself. With a careful manipulation of its muscular body, the catch was unhooked and it slid out of the cage. For a moment the lithe form of the snake coiled on the flagstone floor was still. Then it began to swell and grow until the snake wasn't a snake at all.

Part 3

The indignity of it had kept him furious all day. That brat Malfoy would be very sorry indeed! As for the sleeping mudblood, she would rue the day she dared hand him over like a piece of meat to a near squib, to be prodded, poked and then charmed! Raising his wand with spindly fingers the color of ivory, Voldemort pointed it at the sleeping girl. Familiar like an old lover, disgust and hatred for Muggles surged within his cold frame. They were everything he had learned to hate. They were everything that reminded him of his failures and weaknesses. It would be so easy to speak the words that would maim or kill. Or perhaps he would speak the words that would force her to torture her friends for his amusement. In her pain, was his relief.

"C-crus-" Voldemort spat trying to force the incantation from his throat.

Even as he brought his full power to bear, the words caught and twisted on his tongue. Enraged, Voldemort ceased trying to use Cruciatus. Instead of the Unforgivable, he focused his attentions to several other unpleasant curses. To his growing horror, none of them were successful. It was as if even as he tried, the words were being forced back down his throat. Voldemort extended a pale hand to fasten on the unprotected neck of the girl in the bed. The soft skin under his hand was gratifyingly fragile. Surging against his palm in a siren's song, was her even pulse. One clench of his hand and her throat could be crushed. As he tried to squeeze, his hand spasmed and loosened. 

Rage turned upon itself, sending Voldemort pacing. No force in the wizarding world should have stopped him from obliterating the girl. There simply were no spells that could do that. Perhaps a lesser wizard could be prohibited from hurting the girl if she was surrounded by a strong protection charm, but that did not explain why he could not even speak the incantations. Protection charms deflected spells, not stop them from being uttered. This was something else.

The girl tossed in her sleep, throwing an arm out towards her bedside table. The gesture caught Voldemort's attention. Her hand was rather near her wand that lay on her bedside table. Eyes narrowing, Voldemort approached the girl. Was she awake? Instinctively, Voldemort spoke the incantation for a sleep spell. To his amazement, the spell easily fell from his lips and encompassed the girl. Immediately, he tried a hex he'd learnt in his first year at Hogwarts. This hex, like the more powerful curses he'd used before refused to be cast.

Considering his experiment, Voldemort studied the girl. It was only spells of an offensive nature that were prohibited from being spoken. Worse, it was becoming clear that buried deep within, was the magically prompted urge to protect and obey the sleeping girl. It was enough to turn his stomach. There was only one thing it could be. A chuckle filled with rage and frustration, rasped from his throat. It appeared that the great Lord Voldemort was domesticated by a 'ancient Indian snake charming spell'.

The urge to vent his frustrations in someone's pain was strong. The blundering Malfoy boy was temptingly close. The oaf had not only 'lost' him, but had treated him in a manner that deserved long and painful punishment. The urge faded as quickly as it came. He was already angry that he'd come so close to giving into the urge before. Voldemort was tired of the fools he had once called his 'family'. The only language they knew was violence. Their pettiness sickened him. His greatness was blotted with their inept fumbling. With an internal snarl, he pushed aside such thoughts. He'd gotten into Hogwarts but was now shackled to a mudblood. For now he could do nothing but consider the situation. He had no desire to let impetuous action foil his plans. Voldemort quickly transformed into his animagus form and returned to the warmed cage the girl had provided. At least she had bothered to find him acceptable quarters.

* * *

Hermione woke to the realization that she only had an hour to review her lessons for the day. That was a torture, in her opinion, almost worse than the Cruciatus curse. Fumbling through her morning toilette, Hermione drew out her textbooks from her trunk. All during the summer holidays, she had kept close to home. Voldemort had struck the families of several Muggleborn students in the past two years. Intellectually, Hermione knew that there wasn't much she could do if her family was attacked, but that wouldn't have stopped her trying. She would at least be there. To be there to bear witness, if nothing else. Hermione was all to familiar with the aching look of guilt on the face of Rene Henderson, a Hufflepuff Muggleborn in her third year. Poor Rene had come home to find her home a charnel house. 

As a result of not getting to Diagon Alley early, Hermione hadn't had the opportunity to peruse her texts. This was the first year that she hadn't prepared ahead of time. A ball of panic settled in her stomach and refused to budge. Hurriedly, Hermione perused her texts. The first week of classes was always review, but that didn't mean she could slack off. There was also the matter of the books she'd purchased that were carefully hidden in her trunk. Those would have to wait until she was guaranteed privacy. Barely a few minutes to spare until breakfast, Hermione quickly began to stuff book after book into her bag. 

Hermione jumped a mile when her hand landed, not on the cover of a book, but rather a reptilian body. The snake was sitting on her last book with what could almost be called a demanding expression. With a flash of guilt, Hermione realized that she'd not fed it last night. Who knew when Malfoy had bothered to feed it last? Uncomfortably, Hermione took out the package of magically frozen pink baby mice. Feeling rather queasy, she muttered the counter spell that defrosted the pinkie. Once soft, Hermione nudged it towards the snake. The snake was still for a moment as if considering and then pounced. Within moments, the mouse was but a slight bump in the snake's long body. How it had gotten out of the tank, Hermione didn't know. There was a latch on the cage, but this was a wizarding animal.

Deciding to put a locking charm on the cage, Hermione moved to replace the snake. Hermione soon found the snake had other ideas. While not the constricting kind of snake, she quickly found out it impossible to remove it when it wrapped around her wrist in a near crushing embrace. There was a temptation to simply use a spell, but she had no idea what effect it would have on a snake. Many spells affected animals differently from humans.

"You bad snake! I have to get to breakfast!" Hermione said plaintively, but the snake didn't budge.

For a moment the coils loosened. Before Hermione could take advantage of the situation, it fluidly moved up to twine about her throat. Not wanting the snake to tighten about her throat, Hermione grabbed her bag with violence born of frustration. Maybe Harry could talk some sense into the annoying reptile. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't in the common room or the boy's dormitory. A little embarrassed at the snake that was so openly flaunting itself, Hermione rushed into the Great Hall.

"Harry, could you tell this snake to let go of me?" Hermione announced as soon as she sat down.

"What's wrong? I thought you were going to give the snake to Dumbledore?" Harry asked with a puzzled frown.

"The Headmaster said the snake crossed my path for a reason. He said I should keep it. Now could you help me?" Hermione asked feeling a little uneasy with the snake curled around her neck.

"You can't get it off!" Harry exclaimed.

"If I could, would I be asking? Please, I know I'll get in trouble in class if he doesn't come off!"

"Have you named the slimy thing yet?" Ron asked with his mouth full of kippers.

"Let me just have a word," Harry replied, before Hermione started to argue with Ron.

Hermione knew he hadn't used his ability to speak with snakes since his duel with Draco. Harry didn't like to talk about his ability to speak parseltongue. After what happened with the Chamber of Secrets, Hermione didn't blame him. Curious, Hermione tried to follow how Harry did it. What she heard was just a jumble of hissing and dry rasping. Several other Gryffindors that had overheard the earlier conversation also watched with anticipation. They seemed equally baffled at how Harry did it. To the trio's surprise, the snake firmly ignored Harry. 

"Won't it talk? I thought snakes liked you, Harry," Ron teased.

"I don't know. Usually they're quite curious to find a human that can talk to them. Hold on a minute..."

__

"I know you can understand me. You really do have to get off Hermione," Harry spoke softly to the snake.

__

"Stay!"

The force of the snake's reply surprised Harry. He knew there was no reasoning with the snake. It was becoming cross, and Harry was wise enough to stay out of the way of angry snakes, parseltongue or not. Especially when the snake didn't seem to like him one bit. Sighing, he knew that Hermione wouldn't be happy. The snake was causing more trouble than he knew she had anticipated. The snake was trouble, period. Something about it made Harry feel uneasy. He'd learnt to pay attention to his instincts. But in this case, Harry was pretty sure they were wrong. Maybe it was because Malfoy had owned the snake originally.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. It doesn't want to leave. Maybe we can explain?" Harry replied hopefully.

"Snape'll deduct points for sure!" Ron cried out.

"It really won't move?" Hermione asked.

"Sorry," Harry apologized and shrugged.

"That's okay, Harry. It's not your fault the snake is being bothersome," Hermione replied, glancing down at her living necklace. "I do think I've worked out a name."

"Yeah, well I reckon you ought to call it Snape. It's ugly enough," Ron groused.

"That's not funny, Ron! I was thinking more along the lines of 'Molestus'. It's Latin for troublesome or annoying," Hermione snapped.

"Molestus? Who ever heard of a name like that?" Rob protested.

"Well it's better than your suggestion! That would have taken points off of Gryffindor for sure," Hermione argued with an almost fond tone. "Come on, we better go or we'll miss Transfiguration."

* * *

Overly hot, sweaty and covered in a fine layer of grit, Hermione almost wished she'd dropped Herbology. Muttering a freshening spell, she hoped that she had at least gotten rid of the dirt. Herbology was a simple but very interesting subject. Born to the Muggle world, Hermione had a fascination for sentient plants. It was rather similar to her interest in the creatures Hagrid taught them about. Although she might think about dropping one, Hermione never would do it. That was assuming the Headmaster would even let her.

Professor Sprout, like her other professors, had said nothing about Hermione's new companion. That was something Hermione was grateful for. The significant look the professor gave her, did suggest that the moment the snake disrupted class, it would be fed to one of the carnivorous plants in greenhouse 4H. Such a mild reaction wasn't expected from Professor Snape. With the feeling of impending doom, Hermione caught up with Harry and Ron who had disappeared for a few moments just as Herbology ended. Hermione hoped that it wasn't something to do with a prank. As Head Girl, she would have to punish them if she knew anything and that made her uncomfortable, as they were her friends.

"Where were you both?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Aww, don't get all mad. We were just trying to get a look at whatever Hagrid has for us this year," Ron replied.

"There wasn't anything to see. I guess he wants it to be a surprise," Harry added.

"I don't know why you bother. You know he tries to keep it a surprise," Hermione lectured.

"Yeah, well, you know how bad he is at keeping secrets," Ron grumbled.

To this Hermione had no reply. Hagrid was bad at keeping secrets. In silence the trio made their way to the dungeons. Traveling further down into the bowls of Hogwarts with her friends, Hermione unconsciously ran her fingers over Molestus' scales. All three hoped that Snape was in a good mood. Upon entrance to the potions class, Snape's eyes fastened onto the snake. Their carefully nurtured hope was quashed with a particularly potent sneer.


End file.
